Darkness

Darkness covers me like a blanket ,
I toss I turn waiting Solstice for more light
Losing myself in the chanting
And light of a candle
I no longer can handle
Holding my breath ,
Waiting for you to turn towards me
It will never be what is was
Your turning more grey as I walk away
More angry and bitter a man who's eyes of blue
Used to feel so true ....the facade your played
I gave you my all ....time cannot be replaced
Heart that is ripped and shredded
Tears  that are frozen to my face
Shoes I no longer can lace
I have no place ....I drift like a skiff that's lost it's mooring
Mourning what was , what wasn't , what cannot be
You being truthful  and faithful to me  
And you poor another drink
My van gough  flute playing man
Hands that no longer stroke my brow or my hair
I now accept the pain of you just don't care
Adrift I am in the sea of life
Holding it together , knots I tie ,
Looking for somewhere to drop this anchor
As the storm clouds roll in

First Big Snow

First big snow of the year ,wish I weren't here ,only because these old bones hate to shovel this out this hovel .My world ..each flake is unique and different , is that in people or snow ...I gotta wonder .
The muffled quiet as the snow drops, making all look like a coat of fresh white paint ....hanging on so tenaciously on the trees bent with the weight of it all ..much like my soul and shoulders how much more can I take before I break .
You will be fine .....they all say but they don't walk a mile in these shoes ,with a bad case of winters blues ,reds and the pinks one thing for sure is love stinks ...I want it but don't want the pain ..
Think I will rely on the love of my dogs one old and faithfull all 19 pounds of a bear chaser ,and new lil girl with attitude and love that just don't stop .
This house is like a whore screaming for more ...the roof leaks like a sive just like last year after it being fixed now covered in the Alaskan fix a blue tarp and duct tape untill the wind picks up or this foot of fresh snow changes form to water or ice .
There comes a time this orphan says in my Saturn return , make it or take it ....which will it be , all so overwhelming as I balance on my cane ...hands wanting to bead with eyes that can't see ,
My ink is dry on my tats and paper ....I search daily for a new landing spot like a Eagle circling my prey ,where should I go ,where should I stay .
She who the ocean in her home ....largest tide in many ,second fastest moving tide in the world ,can I navigate this ...
Odd to my mama who often said "never took an ugly man home ,but sure woke up with a few!"
A mother a lover a friend a grandma a artist a baker a blueberry pie maker ...
What defines me is what I let it ..time to pull anchor and move on...

Life with a view

The tide has turned and so have I Feeling lost spiritually ,and in your eyes I do not exist So why am I here just for the view? Otters come out from the old boat house, another season of life from 4 to 5 to 7 to 5 they have survived the traps That have been set out for them and my dogs The days are longer and so is my hair and nails I stopped chewing them when I threw in the towel You don't even know ,you're not even aware I am no longer here nor there And it used to matter ...now I care not ...your looks used to draw them in like flies and you still try But no honey just bullshit,all talk no action except with your own self and computer screen ,then you don't have to interact with reall life it's just a fantasy world So throw another log on ,drink my 1 cuppa coffee one needs ice cleats to navigate this life .. And they don't make xtra tuffs like they used to nor woman like me ..your loss Soon spring will spring pussywillows will bloom ,daily I discard that which no longer serves a purpose nor fits Summer will come ,music will be played, but no longer will play the game of life with you. Moving on tried I really did but you drown yourself in your own memories and affairs and alcohol and somewhere somehow I became your enemy no longer your lover

Open Water

Open water in January ...How strange is this ? Could it have anything to do with climate change or coal burning in china ... In my minds eye it does ....being raised in the territory of Alaska,fishing in waters most now head for port ,Been along time coming and on deaf ears throughout the years . Low price of fish one can only wish bills to be paid . I'm glad I am now an old woman with arthritic hands or I would be yelling at the top of my lungs hey...STOP ....NO ....more pollution is the solution .I speak it in this lil village by the sea ,they don't want to hear it ,buy another beer ,turn another ear ... But still your having a hard time business closing them that stay price gouging ... Gee I wonder why my carborater always froze up with ice did not used to be the case ,so now import my fuel no more problems ,but never to be admitted cha Ching at the pump . Throw another log on ,stroke one of the dogs ,say fair well to the fleet as they head out to sea glad it's you and not me ..wouldn't wanta fish for the price ,can't even pay for bait nor ice .

Gold In The Broken Places

My life has become broken. Broken heart,broken promises Broken word Broken trust... ah but i have become a master Taking that which has broke and mending it with gold...I am a master of Kintsugi..."Golden Joinery" the gold is the sunset of the day ,the ray of light through a cloud,reflection of light bouncing off the water.... I think to myself how much more can I mend ??At the price of gold these days metaphoriclly speaking. The violence that seems the norm these days on our planet ,the lies of corporations for greed , seems almost deliberately broken to have one repair..Shift consciousness elsewhere like what are the kardashins doing so ya dont really notice whats going on , I noticed a few years ago I would bring up Pebble Mine no one here even heard of it..Are you kidding me this is a fishing community....After my Golden joinery most the working vesels have no pebble on them now..Like in the 15th century when this practice came about ...it was also a sign of culture clash..bring attention and beauty to that which is broken... So what does one do but pick up the pieces might as well mend em them that ya can.. Matters of the heart i imagine a golden spider web weaving my heart whole ,protected . I rember years ago saying ear plugs in and contacts out...you dont exist in my bubble. another form of golden Joinery. The sun comes out after a day of rain and fog and mist,could be another spectacular sunset to enjoy with the dogs. So when things get so broken you think you just cant go on...visulize Gold in the broken places..a soft metal that makes it whole again and often more beautiful than it started out as and stronger.

winters end

The last grasp of winters talons ,like the eagles feeding on fish on the incoming tide..I wecome the spring,the long days cold and crisp but still the sun shines.It light the soul of my being ah-ha I say,made it through another winter,with wood still in the woodhouse.Dogs bring gifts at the front door half a rabbit ,Wheres the rest i ask..but the rabbit ain't talking. I think of gardens waiting to be planted,like the tides it will come .I drink my cuppa organic coffee and contemplate the state of being our planet is in,,and wonder why is it those that have the least give the most?Step up to the plate in harms way ,while those that hide behind their dollar are the first to holler not me,not me....i must have a trailer hitch on this hearse..so i can take it with me...none for you..none for them.. I think of full moon over Angkor Wat and the limbless children wanting to run..and that to is me...a limbless child wanting to run wild,,,and all i can do is type in frustration of the hungry both spiritually and emotionally let alone a bowl of rice... So watching not from a bar stool,but from my own reality show ,,,brings to mind the words my gram used to utter...truth is stranger than fiction,and they ain't got no mind it don't matter... I walk the beach in search of sea treasures to sooth me like a dog grooming himself,as my own pack bring feathers ,rocks and kelp to me waiting for approval as i do ..in this village by the sea .Wondering will they ever really know me?? To my own self be true, has become my creed, I continue to bead ,creating a lifetime of work as i travel the world bringing home pearls and coral and carved jade..I give thanks to Kwan Yim for showing me compassion as we all need it . Light another candle to burn the distorted views of many ...to see the truth of what is,,, Love one another,practice kindness verses character assignation ,find your own joy in all that you do ...and it will be all right...and the bulbs i planted in the fall will soon be blooming like a giant Monet painting from the Lil yellow house on waters edge.

Fear no art

Like lace the ice forms at the edges of the slough.Confused ducks wondering what to do.Tides turn ,and so do I towards you ,but the fish ain't running like they used too.Hands don't mend nets or hearts.
Light another candle i say for the day ,for what was and what is..Friends long gone ,new ones made...
Dreams long forgotten come back to me in slumber..that state between awake and not quite..I know the fire has gone out ,as my nose is cold ...throw another log on the fire of my soul.I am much to young to be this old I say to the woman in the mirror whose eyes look at me ..Is that me?
who is she this woman in the mirror,children gone from home, with a man that's been known to roam,
Don't let the past affect your future ...How can it not i ask.
No more herring at the head of the bay, Pebble mine trying to come my way.
Do you know me ?As I thread another needle for a beading project.
Eyes wishing they could see better ,but would I like the view..
Novas got a new dress on as she sees all on the deck overlooking the slough.
She's ready, no L.V...luggage for her just baggage from the past leaving her unsettled...
Another organic coffee i finally have cream for my coffee .
The sun rises and the day begins ..I remain optimistically hopeful...
The hundred mile winds ain't blown her wig off lately lets here it for gorilla glue...will it be able to mend these cracks in my heart?
I who fear no art.